Crown of Thorns

Chapter Forty

Maybe Dying So Who Cares, Day 135 A.F.

My blood pooled under and around me, as if I was floating on a sea of red. Each drop stained the dusty ground a sickening black. I knew if Cyprian would only let my drooping eyes shut for just a little while, I'd be okay. I could almost feel my powers straining, feebly trying to drag my flesh back together, but my energy was sapped. My adrenalin had dissolved, leaving only hollow exhaustion. I needed something to spark my healing abilities, but Cyp didn't see it my way.

"You can sleep when I'm sure you'll wake up." Cyp pulled his shirt back up to my shoulders, whether to keep me warm or to conceal my wound, I wasn't sure, though the bit of cloth did little to accomplish either.

Cyprian had moved me closer to my ruined trees, enduring my pain-ridden screams and insults. He'd placed a broken branch under my head, the makeshift pillow surprisingly comfortable, and ordered Tybira to fetch my bilberry bush. The tiny plant didn't speed my recovery, but it was a comfort.

"I can't heal like this," I grunted, voice strained and scratchy. The pain had dimmed to a terrible chill, racking my body with shudders, but allowing me to speak. "Just let me..." My head began to sag to one side, my eyes sliding shut.

"Oh no." Cyp kneeled next to me, cupping my cheek in his palm to keep my face from meeting my wooden pillow.

Without a thought, I leaned into his touch; his hand was warm and soft. The heat made it easier to keep my eyes open. When he started to draw a way, I lifted my trembling hands to catch his wrist, bringing his warmth back to my face.

Cyp chuckled, his thumb brushing my cheekbone. "That's it. You can stay awake for me, can't you, Flower?"

"That's not working." My eyes fluttered, but stayed open as I reveled in that one point of heat. It was humiliating, clinging to Cyprian like a child, or a gushing puppy after he'd made it very clear my feelings weren't reciprocated. But his touch, that searing warmth of his palms, the tickling brush of his calloused fingers... It made my heart speed, my senses sharpen.

"Really?" He curled his finger under my chin, gaze roving across my face. "There seems to be a good deal more color in your cheeks. That's something, isn't it?"

I let go of his wrist, but he only continued to caress my face until I feebly pushed his arm away. His hand covered mine, and eventually, almost without my desire, my fingers curled around his like vines clinging to a branch.

"Brave little Flower." He laughed, deep and breathy. "What were you thinking taking on the Devil all by yourself?"

"I would have had him if my poison had worked." The red seemed to have stopped seeping through Cyp's shirt. Maybe I was healing a bit.

"Gabriel said he's one of the few Cards immune to your poison," Cyp reminded. "He doesn't know the others, or if he does, he's not telling."

"Hm." I yawned.

Cyprian sighed, brushing my hair back, keeping what he could out of my blood. "Would it keep you awake if I kept talking?"

I dipped my chin. It might or might not keep me awake, but I liked Cyp talking to me.

"Alright... What to talk about?" He rubbed his neck, lips pursed. "Well, I don't want you taking enemies on by yourself like that."

"You did," I grumbled.

"I'm a palace guard. I'm head of the sect that defends the royal family. I've been trained since my childhood to lay down my life for my queen. I know how to fight."

The pride in his voice was clear. He knew he was skilled. "Teach me to fight?"

He laughed again, which made me frown. "I don't know, Flower. The way I fight, it's about strength and force. You're tough, but you don't have the size or the muscle."